


today is our yesterday (and our tomorrow, too)

by ydek



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, they've been friends for 6 years and i'm soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 04:57:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15163166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ydek/pseuds/ydek
Summary: “I believe in looking towards the future, not the past,” Chaeyoung says, and she sounds so serious that Dahyun has to bury her face in her shoulder to muffle her laugh. A beat later, she can feel Chaeyoung shaking with laughter, too, and for a second, they’re trainees again, huddled together in a practice room, hiding from their teachers or sharing gossip about their friends.





	today is our yesterday (and our tomorrow, too)

“I hate this,” Chaeyoung declares abruptly. It’s maybe the eighth time in the past hour, but Dahyun still entertains her, looking up with an arched brow.

Chaeyoung taps at the notebook in front of her impatiently, marking the crumpled paper with streaks of lead and frustration. “Songwriting. Is. The worst.” She emphasizes each word with another score on the page.

“You’re doing well,” Dahyun says innocently.

Chaeyoung glances at her mess of scattered lines and then gives Dahyun a withering look. Dahyun smiles cheekily in response.

“Hey, I changed my mind — you’re the worst.”

“Uh-huh, love you, too.” Dahyun sets aside her book and crawls over next to her.

The two of them are sprawled out on the floor of the living room, the only ones present when everyone else is either asleep or trying to be. Maybe they should be, too, but nothing can stop Chaeyoung from following her writing moods, and nothing can stop Dahyun from following Chaeyoung.

Chaeyoung shifts a little to give Dahyun more room to see the page; Dahyun flops an arm over her to keep her from going too far.

“The words almost exist,” Chaeyoung mumbles. “I mean, they’re forming, but not fully. But they’re there, you know? And it’s like I can almost reach them, but then when I actually try, I can’t. Not yet. Everything disappears, so nothing comes out right, so it’s… annoying.” Chaeyoung blows out an exasperated breath. “Does that make sense?”

Dahyun pinches her brows together and slowly hums in what’s supposed to be a reassuring tone but really just sounds confused. The corners of Chaeyoung’s mouth quirk up, though, and that’s what’s most important.

Dahyun takes a moment to soak it in, and then smiles back and squeezes her good-naturedly. “No, I get you. It’s like that sometimes. For everyone. You’ll be okay.” She may not have all that much experience in songwriting, but she’s confident in her experiences watching Chaeyoung do it, so she speaks with all the certainty in the world.

Chaeyoung looks like she’s trying not to show how pleased she is by that. She presses her lips together, and then turns back to her notebook and says breezily, “Well, of course I will. I’d just rather it happen sooner than later.”

“Oh, bold words from someone who was one pencil stab away from mangling her notebook a minute ago.”

“I believe in looking towards the future, not the past,” Chaeyoung says, and she sounds so serious that Dahyun has to bury her face in her shoulder to muffle her laugh. A beat later, she can feel Chaeyoung shaking with laughter, too, and for a second, they’re trainees again, huddled together in a practice room, hiding from their teachers or sharing gossip about their friends.

They’re trainees, and they’re sneaking food during their diets and stressing out over their showcases, discussing new dance routines and running through them a thousand times. They’re writing ideas for Chaeyoung’s raps, singing along to Dahyun’s piano, thinking empty thoughts and dreaming distant dreams that, as it turns out, might not have been so empty or distant after all. 

Dahyun lifts her head, and she sees her own fondness reflected in Chaeyoung’s face. They stay like that, looking at each other, for just a moment more, and Dahyun thinks to herself that Chaeyoung’s eyes really are still every bit as bright as they were the day they met — alight with ambition and drive, but also a warmth better than the sun’s.

Chaeyoung’s better than the sun. Dahyun would swear her life on that.

“You’re looking at me weird,” Chaeyoung suddenly says, as though she isn’t wearing the exact same expression herself.

Dahyun lifts her eyebrows in mock offense. Then she contorts her face into something she’d never show onstage. “Is this better?”

Chaeyoung snorts and shoves her. Dahyun grins.

“Go to bed already, you’re distracting me,” Chaeyoung complains. She makes a big show of turning back to her notebook, and then looks at Dahyun pointedly.

Dahyun just folds her arms in front of her and rests her head on them. Chaeyoung rolls her eyes but doesn’t protest any further. Her attention returns to the notebook, and before long it’s clear that she’s in her own world again, forehead creased and the tip of her tongue poking out as she scrawls a series of characters.

Dahyun settles in closer to Chaeyoung, carefully so she doesn’t take away her focus. She likes having Chaeyoung’s attention, but she likes watching her work, too. Old habits might die hard, it seems, because even after so many years Chaeyoung's mouth still hangs open when she’s concentrating, and Dahyun hides a smile at how dumb it makes her look.

(Then again, old habits might also die hard because even after so many years Dahyun still never gets tired of looking at Chaeyoung, whether she’s working, or talking, or laughing, or _being_ — and she supposes she must look pretty dumb about it, too.)

Maybe that’s okay. They can just lie here and look dumb together. They’ve done it long enough already anyway.

Chaeyoung moves her foot over, hooking her ankle with Dahyun's so their legs tangle together. In return, Dahyun presses a soft kiss to her hair and then props her chin on Chaeyoung's shoulder.

They'll probably be doing it for a while longer still, Dahyun thinks. After all, six years is nothing when they have their whole lives ahead of them.

She watches Chaeyoung mouth a phrase and cross out a word. The pencil's eraser taps a steady rhythm against the floor. A few seconds later, Chaeyoung scribbles down a line and grins in satisfaction.

Dahyun grins, too.

She already can't wait.

**Author's Note:**

> since their sixth anniversary just happened i wanted to post a lil something! this is because... i love dubchaeng
> 
> title is inspired by ikon's love scenario, just not sad


End file.
